Rediscovery
by amelieelizabet
Summary: When Harry Potter employs Draco Malfoy, can they get over their differences? And can Draco figure out his fast-growing attraction to the boy he once hated? Will Harry be able to help Draco heal from his very own war scars?
1. Chapter 1

"Draco, you have a guest," the voice of Narcissa Malfoy was soft and flowing, but it interrupted his thoughts as he perused the vast shelves of the Malfoy Library. Draco didn't turn to face his visitor, merely continued selecting his book. He wouldn't turn until he knew.

"Thank you, mother," he replied quietly, his tone clear of scorn or malice. She left at the dismissal, silent, but still Draco kept his back to whoever had come to him in this prison. After the war the hatred had become too much and he had withdrawn into himself, staying in his Manor, a recluse.

"You've changed, Malfoy," there came a warm drawl from behind him. He knew that voice. With a startled gasp Draco whirled round to see the vibrant Jade eyes of Harry James Potter just two inches from his. He pitched backwards in a desperate effort to gain distance from the man, and would have cracked his head open on the hard mahogany shelves were it not for the two strong arms that had wound themselves around his waist at lightening speed, pulling him smoothly back up against the taller man. "The Malfoy I knew would never show shock, or lose balance. What happened to you?" it seemed there was genuine concern lacing the Golden Boy's tone. Draco didn't trust it.

"After _Crucio_s at every opportunity from the higher ranks of the Dark service nerves become frayed. After having ones mother's life threatened constantly by a mad man one tends not to care too much about oneself, more about said mother. After three years of hatred from your public after the end of the war, and three years of having to keep a mask of it all I at least withhold the right to express emotion, vulnerability and human weakness in my own home. I am twenty years old, Potter; I've grown up. I should be allowed to be free of past prejudice. As that is obviously not going to happen I am going to be free of it here. I am not a Malfoy, here. I am Draco." Harry winced but didn't release the blond in his arms. "Let go of me, Potter, you dirty my robes. After spending thirteen months in a windowless cell in Azkaban with no knowledge of ever being released, I have no desire to ever frequent a small space, especially the enclosure of your arms, even though by some miracle I was freed." This elicited a frown from the dark haired man, who did as he asked.

"You don't know why?" he queried in disbelief.

"Don't know why what?" Draco growled, brushing off his clothes and stalking gracefully over to his wing-backed chair. He really hated the way everything he did was effeminate. "Don't speak in riddles, Potter."

"I – well – the thing is – I – uh – I testified for you at your trial, along with your mothers, with obvious success. I testified for your father as well but the evidence was too great; all I could do was getting him a lighter sentence. I am so sorry there wasn't more I could do to help." As Draco stared, Harry lowered his head in shame.

"You stood up for my family?" he asked, not quite able to comprehend what he had just been told. "My father tried to _kill _you numerous times during the war – we were followers of the Dark, after all we did to you, you saved us from Azkaban? Why?" Harry's head snapped up to look at Draco.

"Because I saw your reluctance to follow Voldemort when I had my visions. You saved me with that incident at the Manor and your mother didn't give me away in the Forbidden Forest… when I saw in my dreams how you were forced to do His bidding you kept me going; it was people like you I was trying to save. You changed my whole perspective on the war and I think that without that I wouldn't have been able to carry on. Then, to have you thrown in a cold, dank, pitch black cell because of a brand on your arm and the will of a sick, twisted, non-human shell like Voldemort, when you didn't want to in the first place… to have you tossed aside like you were worthless while people who did nothing in the war were congratulated for being on the right side? I would not let that happen! You've been imprisoned for most of your life by your father's prejudices and you shouldn't have to be any more. You were braver than most of the people who fought in the war; you survived constant scrutiny from the most evil Wizard the world has ever seen." By the end of the speech Harry was panting, and turned to face the library shelves, back tense, shoulders hunched.

"Potter… I'm sorry," Draco whispered. His stomach clenched as guilt surged through him at the memories of how foul he had been to the orphan, yet he had still saved them when it came to a chance for revenge. "I didn't know any of this. The Aurors who arrested me in the Great Hall after the battle left me in the cell and the next thing I knew I was half starved and weak, and I was being released, and Mother was there, healthy, and we went home. Thank you," he slowly approached the Gryffindor and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Now, I do believe I haven't been at all civil to a guest. Poor Grandfather must be rolling in his tomb at the thought of my inhospitality. Mr Potter, how would you like a firewhiskey, while you provide me with the reason you came to the Manor? Not to be subject to my cynicism, I'm sure." Gesturing to the chairs by the fire, Draco led the obviously upset man and sat him down. At the rate the whiskey disappeared Draco wondered just how much his ignorance and cruelty had affected the Boy-Who-Lived.

"I came to ask a favour… and to offer an employment opportunity. I know you don't like me very much but in my… house," he swallowed hard, but continued. "I found some items that I can't touch or un-curse and they hold nasty consequences. After talking to the House Elf I found out that only a person of Black blood can touch them without adverse effects. Then I realised that the only people left in the Black line are you, your mother, and my godson, Teddy. I couldn't possibly ask Teddy to do it – he's three for Christ's sake! I don't think your mother would be comfortable doing the task and I know you were top of the class in Charms, drawing with Hermione, so I was wondering whether you would possibly consider my… employing you. I can put you up with lodgings and feed you, and I'm not home very often. I know it's not ideal but it's something to do and…" Draco cut in quickly, surprised at the offer.

"I'm interested. What home do these items reside in?" It was interesting that Potter had come into possession of a piece of Black estate when the family kept their fortunes very close to their chest, especially as Draco himself was set to inherit most of them. Harry winced at the question but dutifully replied.

"Grimmauld Place," he admitted. Draco's eyes widened in silent question. "Sirius Black was my godfather and left it to me in his will, as well as his fortunes which are really too much. That night at the Ministry…" his voice was pained as he trailed off, eyes distant as he relived the memory. Draco, too, flinched; that night had changed his role in the war – with his father in Azkaban Draco was forced into service, to do the horrific things he had experienced.

"Aunt Bella killed the Traitor-Black," Draco finished almost impassively. He was told about Sirius the Traitor-Black, heard the stories of his imprisonment and his escape. "Surely even though Bella did it for all the wrong reasons it was a godsend? I mean the man is the reason you were orphaned, he betrayed your parents to the Dark Lord. Surely now he's dead there is justice, revenge for the crime that stole your family?" With a loud crash Harry shot up, throwing the chair behind him. His eyes were blazing and wild, his magic ripping through the air as raw as if it was going to unleash itself on the room.

"Sirius was set up by Pettigrew," he spat the name so vehemently Draco recoiled. "He framed him after betraying my parents. Siri was imprisoned an innocent man and escaped to see me. I helped him, too. I saved him from the Dementors."

"It was you that night in the forest?" Draco gasped. "You and your Patronus! But… how?"

"How did you know about my – how did you know what happened that night?" Harry growled suspiciously causing Draco to swallow.

"I never slept very well and went on nightly walks. That night was no different, simple and sweet, but there was a commotion in the forest. I don't normally venture further than the edge but I was drawn in and I followed the sound to this… lake. There was a man hunched over the convict, Black. Dementors swooped in from all directions and even though I was beyond the tree line they started sucking my life force as well as the men. The hunched one tried casting the Patronus charm but only came up with a shield but then a brilliant stag burst through the trees on the other side of the water and cleared them. I didn't know whose it was at that point but then the light from the stag shined off the glasses of the man and hit your eyes, and now I realise it could have only been you!" when he finished Harry was pacing.

"You didn't turn me in?" the scepticism earned a laugh from the blonde.

"I didn't know it was you, back then. And any way; did you not pay any attention in first year? Ratting on people doing things they shouldn't after curfew doesn't do me any favours; I get a detention too. If I had told on you it would mean I would be in trouble, causing my parents to be disappointed and my walks to be over. Self-preservation is key, Potter." Now awe coated Harry's expression earning a barely bit back snort from Draco; typical heart-on-my-sleeve, expression-on-my-face Gryffindork.

"Well then thanks, Malfoy," was all he got. "Anyway… the verdict on Grimmauld?"

"Although it pains me greatly to say it, I'll help you. You had me at 'only Black blood can touch it'. Besides, I've always wondered what happened to the old Black family home."

And so it begun.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you bloody mental, Harry? Seriously?" Ron yelled, jumping up from the seat by the fire. "You employed _Malfoy?_ Of all the people you could employ, you choose him?" Hermione shot into the drawing room from the library, eyes alit.

"Oh Harry, you finally reached out! I am so proud of you," she cooed, bustling over and hugging him. He reached around her portly stomach and rubbed her back, smiling.

"Thanks, Mione. Are you sure you should be up and around? You're pregnant and I don't want you being under any strain because of me." He worried, looking to Ron for reassurance only to find that he was shaking his head frantically. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Looking back at Hermione, he saw that she had gone the complete opposite of her earlier mood; she was now furious.

"Harry James Potter, are you suggesting that I cannot take care of myself?" she growled. "Are you implying that I need to rest because I can't take a couple of extra pounds on my stomach, to carry my own child?" Harry backed up and held his hands up.

"No, not in any way, I was just thinking that…" he didn't know what he was thinking; he had just wanted to help her feel less tired.

"Thinking what? I get enough of this pansy-footing from my husband over there, and I don't need any more from you!" she yelled, slumping into a chair. "I am so sorry, Harry. These hormones are all over the place. Little Rose is a kicker, too." When it seemed like he was back in the clear, Harry sat back down.

"It's okay Mione. I just have to remember never to ask if you if you want to sit down again," he grinned wryly. She nodded, giggling. "Well, Draco is going to live with me until all of the cursed items are returned to their original state, and hopefully while he does that I can continue remodelling the place; I already have the colour scheme and furniture planned out. He'll be staying from Monday to Friday, and then he can either chose to go home or stay for the weekend. His mother can visit at any time, and whenever he wants time off he can have it. I'm paying him and feeding him, and I'm going to try to integrate him back into society. You should have seen him, guys; he seemed so broken. It was cruel of the Ministry to put him in that cell, and then he's faced two years and nine months of persecution from the public. He has literally become a hermit. He had tremors, and the cool, collected Malfoy we once knew is shattered, leaving the fragile, damaged Draco behind. I want to repair him. It's only fair, after all their family did for us in the war." Harry finished, taking a sip of his firewhiskey. Ron looked murderous, but Hermione clapped happily, eyes shining with tears.

"I am so happy you've overcome your childish feud and reached out to him, Harry. From what you've told me, he really needs it. When is he going to start?" she asked, eager to hear more about the reconciliation of their old enemy.

"Actually," Harry started sheepishly. "He's upstairs now, unpacking. It was easy enough to get him here, but opening up is going to be an altogether different matter, I think." Hermione slapped him upside the head.

"Potter! You invited us round, which must make him feel exponentially awkward, whilst he gets settled in? He barely tolerates you, and that's only because you saved his family!" she screeched. Ron stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, calming her.

"I can't say I'm happy, mate, but I'll let you go through with your crackpot schemes. Tell you what; come round for dinner on Friday. That gives him a week to get settled in, and come around to the idea that he now lives with his worst enemy." He clapped Harry on the back, and helped Hermione up. "We'll see you later, Harry. Drop us an owl, okay?" when he nodded, the pair left. He could just hear Hermione congratulating Ron in proud tones on his maturity. Harry, meanwhile, got up in search of his new lodger.

Draco had chosen to live in the bedroom on the top floor, only accessible through a spiral staircase and trap door. It was dark up there, and Harry trod carefully, listening for signs of life. He knew the bedroom suite had been plain and empty before Draco was there, so had transfigured a four poster bed reminiscent of Hogwarts for him shortly before he had arrived. Draco had been told to decorate the room as he wished, because it was now his, and Harry was curious to see how it was done. He climbed the stairs and pushed the trap door open silently, thankful that there were no wards on them. Observing the room in quiet awe, he saw that the bedspread was still Slytherin green, just how Harry had made it, but the rest of the room was tastefully light. The walls were white, with a slate grey feature wall, and leather chairs, mahogany wood. There were four bookshelves full of old books, and a posh writing desk, already scattered with parchments. Harry's gaze finally fell on the man curled up on the bed, and thought at first that he was sleeping. However when he noiselessly approached, he saw that Draco's shoulders were shaking heavily.

_Shit! He's crying,_ thought Harry. _**Astute observation, genius,**_thought another part of his brain. He ignored it. _Do I go over there and comfort him, or leave him alone? It's not like he would come to me anyway, but this may be an invasion of privacy. He's only just got here, only just stopped loathing you; perhaps interrupting such a private act is a step too far._ Just as he came to this conclusion, Draco sat up and looked at him with red, teary eyes.

"Come to gloat, Potter?" he asked, biting back sobs that were trying to tear their way from his throat. He hadn't made a sound, so how had Potter known to come up and find him in this state?

"Not at all… Draco. I had come up to make sure you were okay, I mean Hermione beat some sense into me and I realised it was really inconsiderate of me to invite them over when you had only just got here, so I wanted to see if you were alright. Evidently not," he frowned to himself. "Would you like to talk about it?" Draco grimaced and wiped the tears harshly from his face, standing angrily. He couldn't believe he had let himself be seen in such a condition.

"It's just… war problems." He tried to dismiss it, but realised that Harry was the last person that would give up after hearing that answer; he basically blamed himself for the entire war, and so automatically thought that any war trauma was caused, however indirectly, by Harry himself. "It's nothing, really."

"Draco…" Harry started, unsure how to proceed. The blonde moved to the window, hands folded behind his back. Harry followed, and rested a hand on his shoulder, trying to ignore the instinctual flinch. "You can trust me. I really regret everything that happened to you and your family in the war, and I wish that I could take that burden from you and bear it myself. But I can't, so I will have to make do with lessening yours by listening. I won't tell a soul, not even Ron or Hermione, and I'll try to help. You live here, now, and I think it's time we start trusting each other. I don't want to hurt you, and I want to get to know you as a friend." Once his speech was finished, he turned to leave. As he got to the trap door, Draco's small, hesitant voice made him freeze in his steps.

"I heard your conversation with your friends," Draco whispered. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard voices and wanted to know who it was, so I came downstairs. I heard you defending me to them, and describing what you thought of me." Harry was staring at Draco's back, eyes wide, when Draco turned. "Do you really want to help me?" he asked timidly, lower lip trembling and tears dripping from his face. When Harry nodded, it looked like Draco was restraining himself from running over, as he had to grasp onto the window sill. Harry opened his arms, breaking the barrier and inviting the blonde into his embrace, and before he knew it he had armfuls of underweight limbs and platinum hair. Draco was crying again, sobbing into the crook of Harry's neck, where his head fit snugly. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's back, rubbing it soothingly, whispering to him.

"I'm going to help you get better, Draco. I'm going to get the public to accept you and your family for who you really are; good, kind people caught on the wrong side of the war. I'm filing a petition to get Lucius out of Azkaban, and I'm going to help you become the full, whole person you should be. You can be a wonderful person, I just know it. And giving you this focus of curse-breaking, and being in an ancestral home that isn't your personal prison, that's the start. The next step is going to dinner at Ron and Hermione's. So are you game?" Draco lifted his head and nodded.

"I'm beginning to trust you, Harry. Please, _please _don't let me fall."


	3. Chapter 3

It was becoming more and more difficult to not let Draco fall, just like he had promised. Harry was giving him space whenever he was breaking the charms, making conversation over meals and staying up late in the library with him whenever he was reading. It was hard to ignore the times when Draco locked himself away in his room and Harry knew, he just _knew_ that he was breaking down. The weekends were empty days filled with Muggle painting and decorating methods. They were becoming tender friends and Harry knew that he was starting to miss the quiet blonde whenever he was at home, visiting his mother.

Then everything changed. The results from his appeal was back, and Lucius Malfoy was denied release from Azakaban.

"You promised me you would try!" Draco screamed, tears welling up in his eyes as his fragile hope was crushed. "You gave me hope, something I didn't want to give myself and then it was taken away from me!" His voice felt hoarse and his hands were shaking. He knew it wasn't Harry's fault that his father couldn't be released, in fact, he knew that he didn't want his father to be released, but it was the fact that he had trusted Harry, started to believe that the Golden Boy could do anything, when the notion was completely and utterly destroyed.

"Draco, I'm sorry. I tried everything I could and they wouldn't let me." Harry attempted soothing the angry blonde but nothing was working. Pale fists started flying and in a desperate attempt to prevent bruises, Harry caught the wrists and pulled Draco to his chest. "Draco! Please, calm down!"

"Don't you Draco me! I thought my life was going to get back to normal and you've ruined it!" The nonsense was hysterical and desperate, but it cut Harry deeply. It was true, he had broken his promise; Draco had fallen. "I quit. I'm going home. I've had enough."

Harry's world fell out from under him.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Review!

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><p>It couldn't be possible. He had to be joking. Draco couldn't leave. There had to be some way that Harry could stop him, to calm him. He stood in the corner as the Slytherin packed his few possessions, shoving them into a bag in haste.<p>

"Draco, please stop," Harry begged, holding his hands out, but Draco merely turned his back and continued emptying the room of his belongings. "Draco! You have to understand, I tried my best. I'm going to keep trying. I know what your father did in the war; I know exactly how hard he fought for our side after he turned. I _will_ get him released. I will not stop fighting until I do. But you have to stay with me, Draco, I need you here!" The words he spoke tempted Draco, he could see that, but he refused to turn.

"What, you need me here to crack some stupid curses so you can live in a house that should not belong to you?" Draco spat, brushing an angry hand through his hair. "You need me here so that you can feel like you're helping the unfortunate Death Eater boy? Well I can tell you now, _Potter_; you will not be having any more help from me. H Harry shook.

"No, of course they aren't my reasons!" He didn't want to have to tell him, for fear that the old scorn was going to make its appearance, but as a grown man and the saviour of the Wizarding community, he decided he had to man up and face his fears. "I need you to stay because I've found that this house is only bearable when you're around. I've grown to like our morning conversations, our easy banter, and our comfortable silence. I didn't realise how lonely I felt before you were here, Draco, and I don't want to go back to that. You are my friend now, a friend I hold very close to my heart, and I don't want to lose that for anything." He was close to tears, but put an impassive mask on his face. He knew when Draco didn't say anything, didn't move, that he had lost. "If you want to leave, then go. I can't keep you here against your will. I know how much your father's release means to you and I know I failed you when I didn't manage. I'll continue fighting, but you can leave. I'm sorry, Draco." His tone was defeated, and he made his way down the stairs with an air of dejection, knowing that soon, he would be alone again. He had let Draco fall harder than he could have before, because the stupid act of befriending the Slytherin had lifted him up, given him hope. It was all gone now. It was all over.

He went to his room with a glass of firewhiskey, and slumped on the bed with a tight throat. He couldn't cry over Draco, he wouldn't. Just because his feelings were starting to surpass friendship after two months of being with the boy. Then he realised what he had to do.

"The Ministry!" He yelled as he stepped into the Floo, being enveloped in a swirl of green flames and transported smoothly to the office of the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shaklebolt. "Kingsley!" He greeted, sitting in the chair b in front of the man who, although a little shocked, didn't seem surprised to see him there.

"Harry," Shaklebolt inclined his head. "I presume you are here to contest the denial of Malfoy's release?" He asked, and Harry nodded, but before he could explain the Minister held up a hand. "Please. Now, I do not understand your reasons for protecting the man, but I shall explain mine for keeping him here; He is a menace to society, a murderer and a villain. I cannot recount to you the atrocious acts he committed in the War under the name of the Dark Lord. . It is simply unimaginable to let him roam the streets as a free man, when he could quite easily start another war." Harry was outraged.

"Do my memories mean nothing to the Ministry?" He yelled, getting to his feet. "I gave you proof that he was a spy! Penseive memories from Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape proving it too! I have shown you times where he rescued me from a Death Eater's curse while keeping his cover! You are no longer holding Snape's crimes against him; you gave him an Order of Merlin First Class, for God's sake! Why can't you do the same for Lucius before it is too late?" All his anger was drained. "Draco and Narcissa are stuck in their home like it was a prison because of the negative attitude of the public to them due to their reputation. Don't deny them their family life. Place him under house arrest! Community Service! Just… let a family be whole again. My family was destroyed and I can't see another innocent one destroyed too. Not if I can help it." He paused and sighed, bringing out his final card. "I will bring the Ministry down to get him out of there, Kingsley, something I do not want to do. But I will tear it apart if I have to. I will get the backing of the public because I am the Chosen One, and I will bring them down on you like you've never imagined. I didn't want to threaten you, Kingsley, really I didn't, but I will bring war to your doorstep over Lucius Malfoy and I can promise you that you will be on the losing side." With that, he left the office, and a dumbstruck Minister behind him.


End file.
